Tears
by lil'Raindance
Summary: Tormented by his own sins, he struggles to control his emotions. She was his last chance, his last resort. The question is, is he strong enough to let go? Sequel to LiesDG like everything else I write!


**Disclaimer: Don't own it….no freakin duh….**

**A/U) Hey guys! Well, I got such positive reviews for Lies, I thought I would write a sequel! Not a common thing for me, lol. Also, I though you would all benefit to know that I get to have fajitas for dinner tonight! YAY! (does her happy dance)**

I can pretty much live with the fact that I am a dirty piece of scum during the day. When it's bright out side and there are people around that I can lie too, it doesn't hurt so much. It's when night comes, and the world falls asleep…that's usually when it hits me. Because when the drapes are closed, and every one has slid away to their own personal paradise, my purpose for lying slides away as well. People don't see how much it costs me just to sneer at someone. To see the hurt look cross their faces. I have to admit, I used to enjoy it, but now my views have changed. After spending months as an intern for the Death Eaters, I have seen and done things that twist the mind and make you want to gouge out your own eyes. I have often felt the urge to simply point my own wand at my troat and take my own life. Anything to stop this insanity. These inhumane actions shouldn't be aloud to go on. No human being can do these things and not be affected. Well, no sane human being. Yet, I continue to torment, and each victim seems to scream louder than the last. I of course cannot show any hint of weakness. I must sneer and make like I am having a blast. Like some sick, perverse demon wreaking havoc upon the human race.

So, when I lie on my bed, with no reason to smirk or sneer, or force a disgustingly pleased look on my face, I crumble. It hits me like a wave and the tears well in my throat, and it costs me every last bit of strength and will power not to let them fall. One night, I couldn't take it anymore, and I ran out into the grounds. Bathing myself in the moonlight. The cold wind ripped the air from my lunges and I choked on the very air around me. The physical pain was like a penance, and ever since that night, whenever I could I would punish myself for my sins. I would creep out from the dungeons, as silent as a shadow, and force myself to stand in the middle of the cold barren wasteland. It never took long for my body to numb, and for my fingertips to start tingling. However, this was what I was here for. This made up for what I did to others. Or, at least that is what I told myself. I told myself that this was the pain my victims felt moments before death took them, only amplified one hundred times over. This is the cold, unyielding pain of hopelessness.

This was the reason I was standing in the middle of the grounds, in the dead of night, when she came to stand beside me. I didn't know what to say. I simply wanted her to leave. Why was she out here? My suffering meant nothing if she suffered too. It meant nothing if any one suffered. My being out here was pointless! I willed her to leave. And, as if following my mind's command, she turned and began to walk back to the castle. Out of sheer astonishment I spoke.

"What are you doing here?" She turned again to face me, and rose her warm chocolate brown eyes to my own. She was so innocent, so naïve…I didn't want to hurt her. I didn't want to hurt anyone. Not anymore.

Her eyes drew me in, she held me for a moment, the mere warmth of her presence made my anguish slip away, just a little bit. And for a moment, just a moment, hope filled me. Then it was gone. She examined me like some fascinating fossil she had found on the beach. Here eyes searching my face for…something. What as she looking for? Why was she still here? She had to leave.

"What are you looking at?" I snarled. I was angry suddenly, or I thought I was. Sometimes I didn't know if I was actually feeling what I felt anymore. I pretended too much. Now, pretend was becoming reality. She blinked at me, and smiled.

"I came here to ask you the same question." Her voice was sweet, like chocolate. It wrapped around me, warming my body from the inside out. I mentally shook myself. I wasn't supposed to feel warm. I was out here to hurt, she was disrupting my penance. She needed to leave.

"What are you talking about?" I still wasn't sure if I was angry, or just tired. Tired of feeling, tired of not feeling. Tired of pretending to be someone I'm not. Tired of all the evil, the hate. So, so tired…

"You come out a lot to watch things, and I watch you. I just can't seem to figure out what you're watching. What do you watch all the time Draco?" Of course, I had already known she watched me. I caught glimpses of her in hallways, and I could often feel her eyes on my while I ate. However, even I hadn't known that she watched my when I came here. I didn't know that anyone knew I came here. I didn't understand this girl. This innocent child, why was she so fascinated with me? I needed her to leave and the only way to do that was to drive her away.

"Don't call me Draco." I used my coldest voice, and I glared at her as hard as I could, but she didn't even flinch. She just turned to look out at the forest a little grin on her lips. Her lips shimmered like ice crystals, and I wondered vaguely if it was a sprakle charm.

"Very well, but the question still stands Malfoy." I don't know how she managed it, but simply saying my last name stung. It hurt more than the cutting cold. It was like she poured ice cubes down my back, and I shivered inwardly. It was this, more than anything else that caused me to answer her question.

"I don't come here to watch things. I come here because it hurts." The truth of my words hit me like a brick wall. It hurts…everything hurt. Everything I did either hurt others or me. When had the line between reality and dream blurred? When had my life become a living nightmare?

"What hurts?" The voice floated into my thoughts subtly, and I barely noticed the sweetness of the voice gently pulling and answer from my lips.

"The cold. It makes my skin sting." It was a simple answer, and it wasn't until I said it that I realised I had given my secret away. It started slowly, but I felt my defences begin to crumble. Years of holding everything in, tucking all my emotions away, was rising to the surface. I suddenly felt over whelmed with feelings, and none of them felt good. The tiny tug on my sleeve distracted me and I turned to it.

"Why?" She asked, her voice breathy. She met my eyes, and I watched her own eyes widen. Her bottom lip trembled a moment before tears began to spill down her cheeks. I was horrified. It felt like a cold knife was being driven into my heart and it made it hard to breath. I put a finger to her cheek and swept away a tear. It was cold and felt all too real on my fingertip. Why did I make everyone around me cry? My friends, my mother…my victims. All of them, I forced sadness on everyone who comes near me. That thought was all it took to break the last wall of my defences, the last wall of lies. I felt a tear slide down my own cheek before we were in each other's arms. It wasn't long before the urge to sob like a child grew in me. It spread through my body like a weed and I struggled to contain it to a shiver. I crushed her against me, just the feel of her body against mine made everything a little more bearable. She was my anchor, like it or not. Her presence, her body, her being, was the only thing that allowed me to keep whatever small shred of self control I had left. Still, the need to sob welled inside me, and I did the only thing I could to stop myself from bursting into tears. I kissed her. I didn't let myself think of the consequences, and her hot lips on mine drove the need to cry away. She opened to me and let me steal away her comfort. It was then, standing in the freezing cold under the stars, with my mouth pressed against hers, that I realised something. I couldn't do it by myself. If I wanted to keep my sanity, I wouldn't be able to drag myself along. I needed some one to hold me down. I needed some one brush away my fears and ask me to smile. I didn't have to be alone any more…I _wasn't_ alone any more. I had _her_. A goddess on earth. She told me with her body, with her tears, with her love, that her care was unconditional. She would accept me, love me, even if no one else would…even if I couldn't love myself.

_**(A/N) Soooo, this was from Draco's POV. After I wrote Lies, I started thinking. What would it be like to be Draco? To be forced into that position? Would I be able to handle it? Would I honestly be able to pretend to enjoy hurting people, wrecking lives when I was dying inside? If you thought he was maybe a little bit too weepy, maybe you should think about this. Could anyone honestly go through such horrible emotional abuse and not be affected?**_

_**Ashen**_


End file.
